


Perfect World

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:44:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 20,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: You have been hunting with Sam, Dean, and Cas for a while, but once you turn 30 you’re torn between loving Dean, wanting out of the hunting business, or just continuing on through life with the boys.  Something unexpected happens that turns your entire world upside down.  How will the Winchesters and Cas handle it, and will anything ever feel the same again?





	1. Introduction

You, Sam, and Dean unloaded your stuff into a motel room outside of New Union, Tennessee. The three of you had been keeping tabs on disappearances in the town since the week before, six people having gone missing in the town of only about 1500 people total. Something was up, and the three of you were sure to get to the bottom of it soon.

You had been driving all day from the bunker, and were ready for some shut-eye before searching around town. You left the boys for your own room and settled in for the night. 

You sighed – you were almost at the point of wanting out of the hunting game. You’d been with Sam and Dean for a few years now, but before that had been traveling with your aunt, who died in a fight against a rugaru. It was that case that had led you to meet the Winchester boys – they had been there when you set fire to the bastard who sunk his teeth into your aunt.

Now you were just tired. It wasn’t necessarily the hunting that got you – you still relished the thrill of a fight and enjoyed the research. You had gotten tired of the loneliness. You had turned 30 a couple months ago and it was hitting you. You weren’t going to have a normal family, a normal life, ever. There was no way you could raise children into this environment. You never met anyone who could make a relationship work. Oh, and one other tiny factor.

You were ridiculously in love with Dean.

You really didn’t want to be. You couldn’t help that he was there for you, day or night, no matter what. You couldn’t help that you had saved each other’s hides Chuck-knows how many times. You couldn’t help that his eyes were green like a spring field, fresh from the rain and you got lost in them. You couldn’t help that his voice was gravelly in the mornings when he woke up or after he had a couple glasses of whiskey or when he was tired after a hunt and the sound alone sent heat surging between your legs and made your heart beat faster.

All of those things culminated in the realization you had on your 30th birthday. You were in love with Dean and desperate to leave the hunting game, but unable to do anything about either of those wishes.

You opened your duffel bag and grabbed your toiletries, heading to the bathroom to clean up before bed. As you were brushing your teeth, you looked at yourself in the mirror, noting the bags under your eyes and the slight crows’ feet crinkling around the edges. 

You spat and sighed. Nothing you could do but keep fighting, you supposed. As long as you were still saving people, still making a difference in the world, you could get yourself up every morning for the fight.

You quietly changed and snuggled into your motel bed, falling asleep quickly. Your dreams were empty, your subconscious knowing not to tease you with things you couldn’t have.


	2. Chapter One

Bright and early the next morning, you were dressed in your fed suit and headed to the local diner for some breakfast. The three of you hoped that in a community this small, the local gossip would be as good a source as any.

The three of you sat at a booth, the boys across from you, as your waitress came to take your order. You and Sam both got an egg-white omelet with spinach and tomatoes, while Dean got the loaded breakfast.

Sam put his nose in the newspaper he had grabbed while you looked around. A couple men sat at the counter, seemingly on their way to work. You listened as they spoke.

“Shame for Kevin, man. He’s pulling his hair out over Darlene. He’s got no idea what to do with those kids without her.”

“I know what you mean. He couldn’t even concentrate on the line yesterday, and I think Mr. Garrison gave him the rest of the week off. The man’s never been without her – they were high school sweethearts!”

You noticed that Dean was eavesdropping as well. The two of you shared a look, before you stood up to approach the men.

“Mornin’ gentlemen,” you flashed your badge at them and sat on the empty stool next to one of the men. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but I believe I’m working a case involving your friend. Darlene Patterson?”

The two men looked between them and then the older looking one nodded at you. “Yea, that’s our friend Kevin’s wife. Been missing for three days now, Kevin’s out of his mind with worry. Boss-man is making him take a few days off to care for their kids.”

You nodded, your face showing sympathy for the man. “That’s awful nice of your boss. Have y’all heard anything about where Mrs. Patterson may have gone? Did she have a family emergency or any problems recently?”

The other man shook his head. “Darlene was a sweetheart, and grew up in town. Her parents passed a few years ago, and those kids are her life. I’ve known her forever, and can’t think of any reason why she would go anywhere, willingly.” Once those semi-accusatory words were out of the man’s mouth, he looked sheepish.

You caught on, “So you suspect foul play, sir?”

The men shared a look again, before nodding at you.

“Can’t think of any other reason why she’d be gone. Somethin’ had to’ve happened to her.”

You nodded and stood up. “Thank you for the information, gentlemen. Enjoy your breakfast, and stay safe.”

You returned to your table with the boys and looked between the two of them. “So Darlene Patterson wasn’t a willing disappearance,” Dean began, and you nodded in agreement. “What do you say we go visit with friends of a couple of the other missing?”

“Sounds like the best place to start,” Sam agreed. He held up the newspaper and pointed to an article, “This one is the most recent, just a day disappeared. I’ll head over to the shop where the girl was last seen and interview her boss.”

Dean looked down at the list you had made of missing persons. “Y/N, why don’t you go to the school where that history teacher, James Randolph, was last seen, and I’ll hit up a couple others. Meet back here for lunch at noon?”

You all nodded and threw down cash for your breakfast, before splitting up. Dean took Baby, since he was going to stop at a couple different places. The area wasn’t that big, so you and Sam walked together for a few blocks before heading in different directions – you to the New Union Elementary School and him to the ‘main street’ area of town.

You opened your small notebook to review details on James Randolph. He was a 40-something elementary art teacher, last seen after school on the previous Friday. Not married, no family. When he didn’t show up for school on Monday, the principal had asked police to stop by his house. His dog met the officers at the door, drooling from hunger and having messed in the house. Randolph obviously hadn’t been home all weekend.

You got to the school and headed to the front office, flashing your badge at the older woman at the secretary desk. She called in to the principal’s office, and you smiled when she said she’d be right with you.

A couple minutes later, a tall brunette came out to greet you. “Welcome to New Union, Officer –“

“Davis. Y/N Davis,” you shook the principal’s hand.

“Officer Davis, please come in my office. I’m Rebecca Pauley, principal here. I’ve been worried sick about James, so please tell me if there’s anything I can do.” Principal Pauley led you into her office and offered you a chair, before sitting at her desk.

“Thank you, Principal Pauley. I’ve just got a couple questions,” you opened your notebook and took out a pen, trying to look as official as possible. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Randolph?”

“Friday at dismissal, he was at his regular station. He works the front, helping the kinders and firsts get into their parent’s cars.” You nodded, making a note.

“What time does school get out, and what time does dismissal usually wrap up?”

Pauley took a sip of her coffee before answering, “School’s out at 3:00, and dismissal is usually about 20 minutes. Front of school sometimes is out there longer, maybe until 3:30 or 3:40, depending on how efficiently the line moves.”

You nodded again. “How does Mr. Reynolds usually get home? Does he have a car, because we couldn’t find one registered under his name?”

Pauley shook her head no, “No, James rides a bike. The town is so small, and he doesn’t live but a couple miles from the school. He rides from the back of the school across the fields, and then gets back on the road straight to his house.”

_That was probably where Reynolds was taken_ , you thought, writing “Bike – fields behind school” in your notebook. Having a solid lead, you stood.

“Thanks for the information, Principal Pauley.” You held your hand out to shake hers. “I’ll be in touch if I have any other questions.”

You turned to head out as the principal replied, “Anything you need. Feel free to check James’s room or the school if necessary.”

You smiled at her, grateful for the offer. “Thanks, I’ll probably do that now.”

You left the principal’s office and headed down the main hallway of the school. Your EMF reader slipped out of your pocket, but there was no activity to be found. You found the art room toward the back of the school, and headed in to take a look around.

Reynolds had student artwork hung on every wall and from strings hung off the ceiling. None of it looked suspicious (other than the generically creepy kindergarten clown drawings), and no EMF went off in the room. You checked all windows and doors, but no sulfur was to be found either.

Deciding to check Reynolds’s commute, you left the school through the back door. You took note of a bike rack nearby, assuming that’s where Reynolds stationed his bike during the days. Near the bike rack was a path going off into the field behind the school, and you decided to follow.

You shot a text to the boys, letting them know where you were going. 

_“Headed to Reynolds house – nothing at the school.”_

The field ahead of you was mostly tall grass, about four feet high. You could see the houses on the other side of the field, about a hundred yards ahead. With your EMF still in your hand, you walked into the field, trying to find any clues.

About 200 feet in, you found a bike, assumedly Reynolds’s bike. It was turned on its side a bit off the path, with a messenger bag laying next to it. You stooped to investigate the bag, opening it to find a planner, sketchbook, and some pencils and charcoal. Obviously Reynolds’s bag, you flipped through the planner to the current month.

“Dentist 4:15” was written for the following day, along with “Dinner with Rebecca” on Friday. _Looks like the principal was a little more than friends with Reynolds. Didn’t seem to want to mention that earlier_ , you thought, tucking the info away for a potential follow-up interview.

As you were moving to open the sketchbook, you heard a rustling behind you. You turned in your crouched stance, hand finding your gun tucked in the back of your pants. You listened intently, trying to determine if it was just the wind you heard, or something in the field with you.

Another moment passed and nothing. You turned back to the sketchbook, before everything went black.


	3. Chapter Two

You woke up in a soft bed, snuggled against a very warm, very underdressed body. You stretched slightly, lifting your head to look at the gorgeous man next to you.

Smiling, you kissed Dean until he was awake and responding, eager for your touch. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, allowing you to feel how happy he was to have you in his arms against your stomach.

Things were just getting heated before –

“Mom! Dad! Gross!” Your five-year-old son Bobby zoomed into the room and pounced on your bed, crawling his way between you and Dean.

“Good Morning Bug! I’ve got some of those kisses for you, too!” you teased him, grabbing the little munchkin and peppering kisses all over his face. Dean laughed and started tickling Bobby, who began squirming to get away from both assaults.

Once his shrieking had died down Bobby demanded, “I’m hungry. Time for you to make me breakfast, Mom.” With that, he ran out of the room and down the hallway.

You kissed Dean once more before sliding out of bed, putting on your fluffy bathrobe and slippers and heading to the kitchen. Always helpful, Bobby had taken the eggs and bacon out of the refrigerator already, so you followed his lead and got the stove going.

When the bacon was sizzling and Bobby was standing on his step stool attempting to break eggs without dropping the shells in, Dean walked in to the kitchen holding your 9-month old daughter, still bleary eyed.

“Charlie didn’t even apologize for waking Daddy up in the middle of the night, I’m not sure if she deserves breakfast,” Dean cooed, bouncing Charlie on his hip and setting the Keurig to run with his free hand.

You reached for Charlie, always eager to hold her when she was in a good mood. “Charlie just knows Daddy _loves_ to be with her at 2 am, yes she does!” Dean huffed at your comment and moved to the stove, removing the bacon from the pan and helping Bobby pour the eggs in to start cooking.

You took Charlie to her high chair, pouring out some Cheerios on the tray for her to feed herself. Once she was settled, you set out plates and forks for the rest of you, getting Bobby’s milk in his kiddy cup and sitting him in his seat. You set Dean’s coffee mug at his place, before pouring yourself a glass of orange juice.

Once you had the table settled, Dean was serving bacon and eggs and your four-person family was eating happily in moments. Dean slathered his eggs with hot sauce, something you found disgusting and wouldn’t let Bobby copy, at least not yet.

“You excited for school today, Bobby-boy?” Dean asked, giving Bobby the chance to talk, something he was very good at.

“Oh yes! Today we’re going to play baseball in gym and Ms. Mills said we could have recess if we stayed on green all day and we’re supposed to draw a picture of our families in art time and we’re learning how to write our last names and we’re going to finish our story from yesterday at story time.” You and Dean nodded and laughed at Bobby’s run on sentence, while Charlie babbled happily in her high chair.

“Well Dad’s got a cool new car in the shop to work on, so maybe you can come see it after school too, if Mom says it’s okay,” Dean looked at you, and you smiled at him.

“Sure thing, we can swing by after I pick Bobby up. Sound good, bug?” Bobby just nodded, mouth full of eggs.

The four of you finished your breakfast, you sending Bobby in to change for school (you had begun to let him choose his own outfits, with guidelines) and Dean going to change for work. You put the dishes in the sink before grabbing Charlie and heading to your bedroom, handing her off to Dean so you could change as well.

Once you had changed, Dean kissed you goodbye and headed out the door. You went to gather Bobby, making him change his shoes (“Elephant slippers aren’t good to wear to school, bug”) before herding him to the car.

You strapped Charlie in her car seat, made sure Bobby buckled himself into his correctly, and got in your seat in the front. You glanced at your kids through the rear-view mirror and your heart suddenly stopped. Dean sat in the back seat, beat up and bloody in the face. You turned to see him, but when you looked in the back seat, it was only Charlie and Bobby again.

You turned back to the front, hand over your heart to calm it. _Just a weird flash, not real_ , you thought to yourself, before backing out of your driveway to take Bobby to school.

* * *

Your day flew by. After dropping Bobby off at school, you took Charlie with you to go grocery shopping, which was always an experience. The small town you lived in ensured that you would always run into someone you knew, and Charlie craved all the attention she could get. It took everything you had to pull Charlie away from someone’s cooing, as her happiness was your happiness.

Once the two of you had finished with groceries (and the long process of putting everything up in the house while also watching the 9-month old crawling and grabbing everything in sight), you took Charlie to a play-date lunch with a couple friends of yours.

You, Jo, and Donna all were pregnant around the same time, and being best friends with them meant that your children would all be best friends, of course. Donna had twin 13-month olds, a boy and a girl, who were the oldest of the bunch. They were quite enjoying their new-found ability to walk (or at least take a few steps before falling), which kept Donna and her husband always on their toes. Jo’s baby was only 5 months old, so he was still much in the sleeping or crying phase of babyhood.

The three of you often met at a child-friendly café nearby to chat and hang out, while the kids would crawl around or look at all the colorful paintings on the walls. It was nice to get out of the house, but still be in a baby-friendly environment.

Donna and Jo both hounded you with questions about motherhood, since you had already been through it all with Bobby. Currently Jo was questioning you about getting back to a pre-pregnancy body, as she still was feeling flabby.

“I just want to feel sexy again, Y/N. You’re already pretty much back to your pre-pregnancy weight, even with this being your second babe. How did you do it?” Jo whined, squeezing a bit of her tummy for emphasis.

You laughed and grabbed her hands from her stomach. “Jo, you’re beautiful. Ash thinks you’re sexier than ever, so don’t worry about it! Just keep to that daily workout that I gave you and you’ll be where you want to be soon enough.”

Donna nodded her agreement. “Hell, at least you didn’t get as fat as I did. Those twins did a number on my lower half, if you know what I mean.” The three of you laughed. Donna had done a natural water birth for her twins, which meant no drugs and no doctors helping her pop out her kids. She had lamented to you and Jo about the state of her vagina afterward too many times.

As you were laughing, you looked out the window. Once again, your breath hitched as you saw Sam standing there, gun in his hand and blood covering his torso. You looked over at Donna, eyes wide, before turning back to Sam – but he was gone.

“Girl, you okay?” Donna asked, worried about your sudden fright.

With eyes still scrunched, you nodded. “Yea, I think I’m good. I keep seeing weird things, but I think it’s a lack of sleep.”

“Tell me about it!” Jo began, and you soon were back in the motherhood conversation, forgetting again the frightening figures haunting you.


	4. Chapter Three

Dean walked in to the motel room after getting back from interviewing family members of victims, seeing that Sam had beaten him back. “Any luck, bro?” he asked, pulling his tie from around his neck.

“Nah, no luck at the boutique. There aren’t that many employees, so they all knew Vanessa really well. I talked with her boss and two others who work with her. She had been acting completely normal – grew up in this town and is about to graduate from the local high school. They couldn’t think of any reason why she would have left. One of the girls also said that her boyfriend’s worried sick, he’s been posting signs all around town and knocking on doors trying to find her.” Sam listed off what he had learned, typing away at his computer.

“No luck with my stops either,” Dean reported while changing out of his dress pants and into jeans. “Both the families I visited said basically the same thing. No problems at home, no problems at work. There has got to be something taking these people, cause none of them had any reason to leave town by themselves.”

Sam kept researching on his laptop as Dean finished changing. “Have you heard from Y/N?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. “No, I knocked on her door when I got back, but she wasn’t there yet. Wanna check on her?”

Dean nodded and headed out the door and down to your room. He banged with his fist as he spoke, “Y/N, come down to our room and compare notes!” He took a couple steps back to their room, fully expecting you to yell back at him. When he didn’t hear anything, he walked back over and banged again. “Y/N?”

No response. Dean pulled his phone out as he walked back to his room, dialing your number. He held the phone up to his ear as he sat across from Sam at the small table. “She’s not in her room yet,” he said as Sam looked at him questioningly.

“Weird,” Sam responded and scrunched his eyebrows in slight worry, as the phone rang in Dean’s ear.

“ _You haven’t reached Y/N. Sorry I missed you. If it’s an emergency, call Dean at-_ “ Your voicemail picked up. Dean ended the call and immediately dialed you again. Lots of times you just weren’t quick enough to answer your phone, so he was used to double-calling you.

“ _You haven’t reached Y/N. Sorry-_ “

“She’s not answering,” Dean said carefully, mind beginning to worry. Sam looked up at Dean, knowing it was out of character for you to not answer, especially when you were all on a case.

The brothers looked at each other a moment, before they stood up, in silent agreement to go find you.

* * *

“Damn it, Y/N, pick up your phone!” Dean yelled at no one, as he heard your voicemail pick up for the eighth time. They had looked back at your text from a few hours before, telling them that you were going to Reynolds’s house from the school. By this point, they were convinced and worried that whatever had gotten the missing persons had gotten you as well.

They were driving along the small roads in Baby, Dean speeding off toward the school. Sam was on his phone, acting as your partner and talking to the school secretary to find out if they had seen you again. When the secretary let him know that she hadn’t seen you since your meeting with Principal Pauley, he thanked her and hung up.

The brothers shared a look again, seeing increasing worry in each other’s eyes. You had become a part of their family and they couldn’t lose you. They knew you were a strong hunter, but they both still had a protective instinct when it came you.

Dean sped into the parking lot of the school, quickly parking before heading to the door. Even though they weren’t wearing their fed clothes, they flashed their badges to the front office and the secretary waved them toward Reynolds’s room, prepared for them after Sam’s call.

The Winchesters quickly scanned the art room and its supply closets, seeing that you weren’t there, before heading to the back of the school. They quickly picked up the bike trail just as you had and began following it. Soon enough, they found Reynolds’s bike and messenger bag.

Sam stayed on the path, hand on his gun and looking around the field for any movement. Dean kneeled down next to the bag, rifling through it as you had. When he picked it up, he noticed a pad of paper underneath. Flipping the pages, he recognized your handwriting and saw that it was your fake-fed notepad.

“Sam,” Dean growled, showing him your handwriting. Dean stood, before yelling at the top of his lungs, “Y/N!”

The two men stood in the middle of the field, squinting their eyes and searching for any downed grass nearby. Maybe you had just been knocked out, or tripped and fallen, and were laying in the field somewhere.

“You check that way, I’ll go this way,” Sam offered, and they split up. They kept the other within viewpoint (which was fairly easy with how tall they stood above the grass) as they walked through the field. The brothers crisscrossed through the field, making sure that they didn’t miss anything. They found their fair share of long-lost soccer balls, baseballs, and a couple of electronic helicopters, but no signs that you had been there besides your notepad. Eventually they both reached the far side of the field, not having seen you anywhere.

* * *

After searching extensively, Sam and Dean went to Reynolds’s house. There were drawings and paintings everywhere, as the man obviously had nothing but his job, his dog, and his art. Dean looked around the house as Sam went through his desk, the only finding that Reynolds had no family and no other obvious places to go.

Satisfied and very anxious with the fact that you weren’t at the house, the brothers headed back to the diner they had begun the day at to grab dinner and a little more town gossip. The only thought that could comfort them was the lack of bodies – someone or something had to be _taking_ these people (and you), not just killing them.

The diner was busier than it had been that morning, making Sam and Dean sit at the counter. Dean ordered a burger while Sam ordered a salad, and they both opened their ears to the conversations around them.

“Spring blooms sure look pretty, don’t they?” a woman was commenting to her husband, the conversation uninteresting to both him and the Winchesters.

“Darlene always did all the cookin’, so I ‘preciate you accommodating us, Cheryl,” a man said to the waitress, helping his children cut their grilled cheese sandwiches. Sam took note of them – Darlene Patterson’s family.

“And Betty’s so distraught about Veronica, she’s such a bright girl…” an elderly woman was gossiping with her friend, mentioning another missing. Dean listened to a bit more of their conversation, but it turned into non-related town gossip.

“Pie boys?” the waitress asked Sam and Dean, to which Dean nodded. She brought him a piece and he decided to poke around.

“Y’all seem to have a bunch of empty houses around town here – any reason why?” Dean began, trying to quietly find a lead.

The waitress grabbed the water pitcher and refilled their glasses. “Nah, just the normal comings-and-goings of folks. Lots of new houses being built, meaning that the older ones are getting abandoned.”

Sam took over, “Are any of them haunted? We love a good scary house.”

She laughed. “I don’t think we have any haunted places around here. Pretty normal town, not too much excitement.” With that, she left to care for the other customers.

The boys finished their food in silence, distraught with their lack of leads. When they were finished, they left some cash at their place and got back to the hotel.

Sam immediately went to his computer, beginning to search any abandoned buildings or places any creatures would be hiding in, potentially with hostages. Dean paced the floor a couple times before heading back to the door.

“I can’t just stay in here. You research and I’m gonna search the town.”

Sam nodded, understanding that Dean was worried. “Keep your phone on, I’ll call if I find anything. Be careful.”

Dean only grunted in response, before barreling out the door. He decided against driving – maybe he’d get attacked by whatever had been taking people. He grabbed a machete, small knife, and extra gun from the trunk, stowing each piece somewhere easily accessible on his body.

As he walked, Dean kept his senses on high alert. The town was small enough that he would be able to cover the main streets in just a couple hours, before heading to the outer areas. 

Every person Dean passed got visually checked and double-checked. He wanted desperately to test every single one of them with silver and holy water, but couldn’t for obvious reasons. He walked into every alleyway and down every side street, searching for any clues.

After about an hour of walking, Sam called. “Hey, got anything?”

Sam sighed. “There are at least 18 abandoned houses and buildings around town. It’ll take a while to clear all of them, but it’s the only thing I’ve got. How’s everything looking out there?”

“I got nothing. I’ll head back towards you and we can start going through those places, yea?”

“Sure, see you soon.”

Dean hung up the phone and turned down the next street, wanting to finish his route as thoroughly as possible. He was upset that they hadn’t been able to narrow down the monster options, but hoped that the abandoned buildings would be a good enough lead.


	5. Chapter Four

It had been a few days since you had seen the visions of Sam and Dean when you had the dream.

_You were in a motel room, one that was fairly familiar. You walked over to the bedside table to look at the information book._

Tennessee _, you read._ I’ve never been to Tennessee.

_“Yes you have,” a voice behind you caused you to turn quickly._

_You came face to face with yourself._

_“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” you asked, and she nodded. “I’ll just be waking up now.”_

_The other you took a few quick steps toward you and grabbed your arm. “No, Y/N. Don’t go. You have to wake up – really wake up.”_

_“What?” you asked, completely confused._

_“You’re trapped. Sam and Dean are looking for you, but you can get yourself out. This isn’t your world, Y/N. You are a hunter. You need to wake up. You know deep down that none of this is actually real.”  
You shook your head, sitting on the motel bed. Suddenly flashes of memory came back to you all at once: you and your aunt hunting – you burning the rugaru’s body – you, Sam, and Dean raiding a vampire nest – your room at the bunker – Castiel healing your broken leg – you and Sam laughing over drinks – Dean cooking hamburgers – fighting alongside the brothers against all kinds of evil – and finally Dean’s eyes, eyes that didn’t look at you with adoration like the Dean in your bed here in this world._

_Here. You weren’t home. You were stuck in a dream-world._

_Obviously your subconscious was trying to fight, coming to you “in person” in a dream-within-a-dream._

_Your hands held your head. This was all so confusing. You had been living a life with Dean, with your children. Now all you could think about was getting back to the real him._

_But wait – you have Dean here. You have Dean how you’d always wanted – in love, with a family, not hunting. What was so wrong with that?_

_You looked up at the other version of you. “I’m sorry, I won’t go back,” was all you said to her, before you woke up in your bed._

* * *

You shot upright, clutching the comforter and choking out a small sob. As you were taking a deep breath, you felt Dean’s hand on your lower back.

“You okay, babe?” he asked sleepily, rubbing your muscles. You turned toward him, leaning down to kiss him gently.

“I’m perfect, just a weird dream.”

* * *

“Dean, baby, Sam and Jess will be here any minute!” you hollered from the kitchen, trying to urge your husband to hurry up with the grill. He had been out there trying to light it for long enough, and you wanted him to change into something a bit nicer for your guests, even if they were just family. ****

Charlie was babbling happily in her high chair, while you were preparing the potato salad and toppings for the hamburgers. You glanced over your shoulder to see Bobby running around the living room with a model airplane, pretending it was flying through the air.

You smiled to yourself. You now remembered your real life – your hunting life – but you had chosen to just stay in this one. It was everything you ever wanted. You had friends, family, children, and Dean. Even if something was wrong out there in the “real” world, you were happy here and didn’t want to change that. You had forgotten what it felt like to be happy. It was amazing to you that you had the memories of this normal, happy life in your brain along with the other memories.

While you were musing, Dean walked in to the house, wiping his hands on a towel. “Finally got it!” he exclaimed, leaning over to kiss you.

“Well, now that you smell like smoke, go change – and hurry!” Dean winked at you and bounded up the stairs.

The doorbell rang, making Charlie squeal. “I got it!” Bobby yelled, vrooming with his plane to the front door. As you had taught him, he peeked through the window to see who it was before opening to potential strangers. You picked Charlie up and came up behind Bobby, nodding at him to open the door.

“Uncle Sam!” Bobby yelled, jumping into Sam’s arms. Sam gave you a hello smile before helping Bobby and his plane ‘fly’ through the house and out to the backyard.

You smiled at Jess, giving her a one-armed hug before she took Charlie from you. “How’s my favorite girl?” Jess cooed at Charlie, and you smiled at them. The three of you returned to the kitchen to finish up preparations.

“How’s everything going, Jess?” you asked, eager to hear from her. It had been too long since they had been over, with Sam’s new job at the law firm and Jess beginning an online jewelry store.

She smiled at you before turning back to Charlie. “Everything is really great. We’re finally getting into a routine, and things are calming down. Life is really good.” You were so happy to see your basically-sister so happy. Sam and Jess had gotten married the year before, and the two of you had become close.

“Good,” you responded, as Dean came back down the stairs.

“Hey Jess!” Dean greeted her, stooping to plant a kiss on her cheek on his way to you. He had changed into shorts and a button up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and tongued a few kisses on your neck.

“Dean!” you squealed, enjoying the attention but slightly embarrassed that it was happening in front of Jess. Dean laughed into your neck before letting go, grabbing the hamburger patties and heading outside.

“I’ll start these and make sure Sammy doesn’t break our son,” Dean said, walking out the door. You heard happy conversation between the boys, and it planted a smile on your face.

You and Jess talked happily in the kitchen, mainly about the two men outside. You were so lucky to have them, as they were wonderful men, not to mention _very_ pleasing on the eyes.

Not long passed before you took the food and drinks outside, sitting down at your patio table to eat. Bobby sat between you and Sam, unwilling to leave his cool uncle’s side for any reason. Dean had Charlie on his knee as he ate one-handed, and you beamed at the picture they made.

Dinner was perfect, as Dean made delicious hamburgers and the company was great as well. Once everyone had basically finished, Sam took Jess’s hand in his and looked at his brother.

“So, Jess and I have something to tell you guys,” he started, trying to contain a smile. He glanced at Jess before looking back at Dean. “We’re pregnant!”

You gave them a small whoop of excitement, clapping your hands. Dean punched the air, causing Charlie to get a bit off balance. You held your arms out to take her, and Dean handed her over before moving around the table to embrace his brother. You and Jess just watched as they hugged, having a quiet conversation between the two of them. When Dean finally released Sam, you saw unshed tears of pride in his eyes. Dean clapped Sam on the back before leaning down to kiss Jess on the cheek and patting her belly gently.

“You’re gonna be a great mom, Jess,” you said, completely confident in that statement.

“Wait,” Bobby started. “You’re gonna have a baby, Uncle Sam?” Bobby looked up at Sam with wide eyes, trying to figure out what was happening.

Sam kneeled down next to Bobby’s chair and nodded. “Yes, Bobby. You’ll be a cousin soon!” Sam’s wide smile helped Bobby understand that this was fun and exciting, and Bobby wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck with a joyful ‘whoop.’

All of you laughed and smiled for the rest of the evening, talking about the coming baby and how wonderful Sam and Jess would be as parents. With the five most important people surrounding you, you couldn’t be any happier.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: dead bodies ahead

By the time Dean made it back to the motel, it was almost ten. They decided to check out a couple places tonight before resting up for a potentially long day of searching tomorrow.

Dean grabbed Sam from the motel room and the two of them climbed into Baby. Sam gave directions as Dean drove to a recently abandoned house, just a few blocks from their motel.

Sam grabbed a couple knives and a gun from the trunk as Dean triple checked his weapons. They gave the house a once-over, noting that none of the windows had been boarded up yet and the neighboring houses weren’t too far away, so it was doubtful that anything out of the ordinary was happening here. 

Dean went around to the back of the house while Sam entered the front. They quickly cleared the first floor, before Sam went to the basement and Dean checked the second floor. In only about 20 minutes, the boys had come up with nothing suspicious in the house and were back in Baby.

The next place Sam led them was another house within the town limits, and they followed the same routine as before. This house was bigger, with a large garage and greenhouse in the back, but the outcome was the same. No suspicious activity found.

The third place Sam where led them was an abandoned warehouse just outside the town lines. As Dean parked, both of them felt the hackles rise on the backs of their necks. The windows were all boarded up and the paint was chipping, giving the whole place a creepy feeling.

Not worried about being seen, the two of them pulled out their guns before entering the warehouse. Once inside, they split up to search through the aisles of abandoned car parts, keeping close attention to the direction that the other went.

Sam found a staircase that led up to what used to be the offices of the warehouse, with large windows that overlooked the floor. He could follow Dean’s flashlight beam out of the corner of his eye as he searched the rooms above. Nothing out of the ordinary stood out to him, so he soon began to head back down the stairs.

“Sammy!” Dean yelled through the quiet, causing Sam to break into a run to find his brother. “Sam, over here!”

Sam sighed in relief that Dean didn’t sound like he was in immediate trouble, but still quickly made his way over to him. When Sam got to the open space, he saw Dean checking the pulse of a young girl’s body, strung up by a rope around her wrists, tying to a beam above.

Dean turned as Sam approached and shook his head solemnly; the girl was dead. Next to her was an older man, strung up in the same fashion. They were both ashy-white, the blood drained from their bodies, with blue handprints along their arms and necks.

“Djinn,” the boys said at the same time, relieved to finally know what was causing all the disappearances in the town.

Knowing they couldn’t just leave these bodies here, Sam pulled his phone out to call the local police. He gave the officers their location and his credentials before telling them that he and Dean would still be there upon their arrival.

While Sam was on the phone, Dean searched the rest of the warehouse, even though he knew he wouldn’t find you. This warehouse was obviously an older feeding house for the djinn, and it (or they) had surely moved on to another location to feed on the other, more recent missing persons.

By the time the cops got there, took Sam and Dean’s statements, and took away the bodies, it was nearing 2 am. Knowing that you were still alive somewhere, just stuck in a djinn-induced fantasy, the boys decided to catch a few hours of sleep before continuing their search.

They headed back to the motel and fell onto their beds, falling asleep with all their clothes still on.


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: smut

A few weeks after Sam and Jess had told you of their pregnancy, they offered to take Bobby and Charlie for a night. It would be a practice round of parenting for them, as well as an uninterrupted date night for you and Dean.

You strapped Charlie into her car seat in the back of Jess’s car, kissing your baby on her head. “Be good for Uncle Sam and Auntie Jess, okay baby girl?” you cooed at her, and she replied with a few loud “dah!” sounds. You smiled and looked to the other side of the car where Bobby was buckled in.

“Be good, Bobby, and do as Uncle Sam and Aunt Jess say, okay?”

“Yes, mom. I’ll be good,” Bobby nodded his head encouragingly, and you smiled at him.

“Love you, bug,” you reached over and tussled his hair.

“I love you too, mom.”

You pulled yourself from the car and Jess gave you a quick hug. “We’ll be great, no need to worry. I’ve been around these kids enough to know what they need, want, and shouldn’t have, and you know that, Y/N,” Jess teased, and you laughed. She leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Have fun tonight!”

She winked at you as she got in the car, all three of them waving at you as the car pulled out of your driveway. You turned to go back in the house, your mind still on the safety of your kids, but also wandering to pleasant thoughts of a night alone with Dean. You closed the front door behind you before heading upstairs to your bedroom, where you guessed Dean would be.

Sure enough, when you got to the threshold you saw your husband standing in the middle of the room, which had been covered in rose petals and candles. He stood there with a single rose in his hand and an enormous smile on his face.

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean almost whispered, eager to be alone with you in the quiet house. He took a couple steps toward you and held out his hand, which you took with yours as you accepted the rose. 

You didn’t care much about the rose, actually, and dropped it to the floor before wrapping your hands around Dean’s neck, pulling him down for a sensual kiss. Dean’s kisses would be the death of you one day, you were sure of it. His hands fell to your hips and grasped you there as his soft lips moved against yours. Very teasingly, Dean slid his tongue across your bottom lip before sucking it in his mouth, causing you to shiver. He gently eased your mouth open, exploring it with his tongue. You surrendered to him, feeling the heat pool between your legs from his gentle touches.

The two of you stood there for a few moments, the only movement being your mouths and tongues dancing with each other. You finally stopped to take a breath, and you laughed at each other’s heavy pants. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Dean whispered, kissing your forehead sweetly.

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I love you too, Dean.”

With that declaration, Dean hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and carried you to the bed, squealing. He fell to the bed, you beneath him, and began kissing you hungrily. All soft and gentleness from moments before was gone, replaced with passion and urgency.

Dean’s mouth moved from your lips down your neck, before he manhandled your shirt over your head. He began kissing down your chest, your moans and hisses encouraging him to find all of your sensitive places. You were grasping at his shoulders and upper arms, enjoying the feelings he was giving you. 

When he got to your waist, he unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, pulling them and your underwear down in one motion. Dean immediately dove between your legs, tongue lapping at your pussy and nose rubbing against your clit. You moaned at the assault, legs spreading to allow him full access.

Quicker than you expected was possible, Dean had you writhing beneath him with your first orgasm of the night. His tongue and lips worked you through it, eagerly tasting your juices and sustaining your pleasure. When the tremors had subsided, he stood next to the bed and stripped himself of his clothes.

You reached out to him, wanting to feel his body against your own. He came back to you on the bed, hovering over your body and giving you a chaste kiss. You reached out to give his penis a few strokes before sliding it along your pussy, covering him in your wetness. He groaned at the feeling as you lined him up. Your hands moved to grasp his ass as you whispered in his ear, “Fuck me, baby.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – he thrusted into you, hips slamming against yours. He waited for only a moment as you adjusted beneath him, wrapping your legs around his waist and hooking your ankles. You made eye contact with him, silently telling him to move.

Dean’s mouth latched on to your neck as his hips began rocking. You met every thrust, eager to feel his pelvic bone press against your clit. A stream of incoherent sounds came out of your mouth, completely out of your control.

Dean’s lips left your neck to lean back and look at you, and the two of you simply watched each other’s expressions as he pounded in to you. After a few moments, you flipped him over onto his back, not letting his dick slide out of your body. 

The new position pulled Dean deeper into you, and you sat up to rock against him. Your hands found leverage on his chest, and his hands moved to your hips, helping to guide you up and down on his cock. You knew that Dean loved to watch you ride him, so you tried to put on a show, pressing your breasts together as they bounced up and down and leaning your head back.

Dean’s hands tightened on your hips and he groaned, obviously enjoying the sight of you. You watched as his eyes moved from your face to your breasts to your cunt, where he could see his dick disappearing and reappearing over and over. The sight had him panting, and you could tell he was getting close.

One of Dean’s hands angled on your hip so he could press his thumb against your clit, causing even more friction with every thrust. You screamed at the sudden influx of pleasure, and after only a few more bounces on him, you were coming again.

With the tightening of your pussy and added juices around Dean’s cock, he grunted out an orgasm soon after you. You could feel the warm stickiness shooting deep inside of you, and you rode him until he had stopped twitching.

One last squeeze of your vagina around him (thanks to the kegel workouts you had been doing lately) and you lifted yourself off of Dean, rolling to lie next to him on the bed. The two of you lay there for a few minutes, sweaty and panting, hands touching between you.

You looked over at Dean to see that he was staring at you with a soft smile on his face. You smiled back and leaned over to kiss him sweetly once more.

“Shower?” Dean asked, smirking a bit. 

“Hell yes.”

The water turned cold by the time the two of you were done in the shower, after which you went back to bed. You didn’t get to sleep until the wee hours of the morning, but this time it wasn’t because Charlie kept you up.

You couldn’t have been happier.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: major character injury

Dean woke first, eager to get started on the search, now that they knew what they were up against and where it had been based previously. He quickly showered and woke Sam up, looking through Sam’s research as he showered.

When Sam got out of the shower, Dean pulled together their plan of action for the day. “Okay, she’s only been gone for about 18 hours, which is still a safe amount of time for her to be alive. We need to find her before nightfall.”

Dean glanced at Sam, just to be sure that his brother agreed. Sam nodded as he toweled his hair, and Dean went on. “We know the djinn was using that abandoned warehouse, so we can assume that’s the kinda place they’ll be drawn to all the time.” He pulled out the list of abandoned locations that Sam had gotten together and a map. “We can nix these four – they’re all within town limits and are houses, not likely the djinn is there,” Dean grabbed a pencil and started scratching out some addresses. 

Sam came to sit down with Dean now that he was dressed and ready, grabbing another pencil. “These three here are on the market and have had some showings, so we can mark them off as well, even though they’re out of town lines.” Dean grunted in approval and started checking the other locations on the map more carefully.

“I say we start with the warehouses and buildings closest to the one from last night, then fan around the town. We’ve got eight more places on this list, so we can get through all of them today if we need to,” Dean marked the addresses in order of distance to the warehouse from last night, then stood up.

“Quick breakfast, then we’ll get started?” Sam asked, and Dean nodded. They were at the same diner as the morning before within five minutes, and had eaten and gotten enough coffee in their systems within twenty.

Dean drove Baby to their first location, another warehouse about three miles north of the one they had discovered last night. Dean pulled silver knives out of the trunk and dipped them in the lamb’s blood they had – one of the many types of blood they kept in stock nowadays. The boys geared up and went in the building – this one was a bit bigger than the one from the night before, but just as boarded up.

They split at the entrance, going opposite directions of each other to search quickly, guns out. There wasn’t a second floor office layout in this building, so both boys were on the floor.

They met around the back of the warehouse, having stuck fairly close to the outer walls. Silently telling the other they had found nothing, the two men worked together back through the middle of the space until they were back at the entrance.

Sam lowered his gun, sighing. “Next place, then?”

“Guess so,” Dean grunted, sticking his gun back in its place and heading toward Baby. They sat in the car for a moment as Sam marked off the warehouse’s address on their list and looked for their next location. 

About 15 minutes later, they had pulled up to yet another building, this one having been an old car factory. A few older model cars sat out front, but none of them neared the beauty of their Impala.

This building was more concrete than steel, and had many less windows. Dean looked at it hopefully, wanting to find you soon.

As they entered the small side door, they saw that the assembly lines were all still in place, so they’d have to search up and down the rows. Dean began on the left side of the large room, Sam on the right side.

They meticulously searched every aisle, but this location didn’t have any open spaces or rafters to hang bodies from, so they came up with nothing. The boys’ heads hung as they exited, discouraged by their bad luck so far.

Again, they sat in Baby and crossed the address off their list. “What’s next, Sam,” Dean gruffly asked, getting more and more worried as the day wore on. It was only around 10 am, but once they hit the 24 hour mark since you’d been missing, it would be your life on the line.

“The next place is just down the road. Probably just a five minute drive,” Sam didn’t even finish before Dean was pulling out of the drive and onto the road, eager to continue.

As they pulled up to this third place, Sam looked skeptic. The building itself was only about as big as a one-bedroom house, maybe 2,000 square feet. It had previously been a sawmill, and they could still see some rotting wood on the lot beside it.

Dean got out of the car and looked around the property. He noticed another building in the back, which he’d be sure they checked before they left for the next place. The brothers strolled up to the door of the mill, opening it slowly. The wood had rotted quite a bit, so it was easy and silent as it opened. 

There were enough holes in the roof of the building that it was easy to see inside. Some more piles of wood scattered the room, but otherwise it was empty. The boys stepped inside, taking everything in. Sam walked to the far side of the room while Dean opened the only other door, what used to be a small bathroom and was now completely in disrepair and empty.

“Not here,” Dean said quietly, moving to leave the room.

“Wait,” Sam’s voice stopped him, and Dean saw him moving to the right wall. Dean headed over as well, seeing that a pile of wood had been blocking his view of a staircase disappearing into the floor.

Sam stood at the top of the stairs and nodded to Dean that he was heading down. Dean nodded back, heading over to back him up. He watched Sam descend a few steps before following, pulling the knife out just in case.

Their eyes adjusted to the dim light below the floor of the mill and they looked around. They were in a hallway with three doors lining one side, and Sam went to the door on the left as Dean headed to the middle door. They glanced at one another before reaching for their respective handles and forcing the doors open.

Many things happened in that instant, and the brothers couldn’t think about one another as they were instantly involved in battles of their own.

Sam opened his door to first notice a man strung up on the far side, head lolling to one side and a beautiful woman standing in front of him. She turned as the door opened and yelled upon seeing Sam with a gun.

The woman lunched toward Sam, and he shot off two rounds into her chest. She looked down at them, slightly dazed, which gave him the opportunity to pull out his knife. As quickly as he could, he rushed toward her, plunging his knife into her torso and her body fell to the floor.

At the same time as Sam’s battle, Dean was in one of his own. He opened his door to see two bald men standing together in front of a table. Dean couldn’t see what was on the table until the men turned toward him – it was you. Your head was turned toward the door, so Dean could see that your eyes were closed, face pale, and mouth slightly open. He rushed toward you, not caring that the two djinn were between you and him. He heard Sam yell in the room next door, which distracted the two djinn in his way.

Somehow, Dean got to the opposite side of the table, with it between him and the djinn. One of them moved toward the door, assumedly to check on his female companion in the room next door, while the other yelled out a battle cry at Dean.

The yell pulled Dean’s attention from your shallow breathing to the monster across from him, and he simply stated, “You kidnapped the wrong girl, buddy.”

In one swift movement, Dean threw the knife across the short distance, face unflinching as it sunk itself with an awful sound into the djinn’s chest. 

When he had fallen to the floor, Dean turned his attention back to you. He was vaguely aware of Sam scuffling with the other djinn, but Dean could only focus on you. He felt for a pulse and sighed as he felt it – faint, but there. Your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and he took note of where blood was slowly spilling from your veins – a small nick on your collarbone and two deeper wounds on your wrists. Dean quickly ripped his outer shirt into pieces to bind your wrists, stopping the bleeding as best he could. 

Once that was done, Dean grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “Y/N, you’ve gotta wake up. Come on, wake up!” Dean shook you harder, making sure he didn’t bump your head. “Come on…” one more shake and your eyes shot open.

You looked at Dean, eyes slowly focusing on him. You blinked twice, before your eyes widened and you softly whispered, “No…” Dean pulled you to him in a hug, thinking that you were just shocked to see him, and couldn’t believe that you were back.

Oh, you couldn’t believe you were back, alright. You were out. Your perfect and happy life was gone. Forever.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: depression

Sam had finished off the djinn and gathered the bodies onto one of the rotted wood piles, ready to burn. The other three people they had been feeding on were thankfully all still alive, and once again Sam called in the cavalry to come take the people to the hospital.

Figuring that you wouldn’t want to be poked and prodded by the local doctors, Dean carried you out of the mill to lay in the backseat of Baby, wrapped in a soft blanket. You were half-asleep, silently wishing to Chuck that you could fall back in to your fantasy world Dean had pulled you from. 

You heard the boys talking softly outside the car. “I’m gonna take her back to the motel to sleep it off,” Dean was saying. “You okay to stay here and deal with the locals?” Sam must have nodded, because next thing you knew Dean was climbing in the driver’s seat.

You closed your eyes, feigning sleep as Dean turned to look at you. You felt him brush your hair away from your face and heard him whisper, “Don’t worry, Y/N. Everything’s okay now. You’re home.”

As Dean started the car, you felt a tear fall from your closed eye. This wasn’t the home you wanted. Dean had ripped you away from your happily ever after.

You must have fallen asleep in the car, because the next thing you knew you were in the motel bed, Sam and Dean sitting at the table talking quietly. You watched them for a few minutes, not concentrating enough to pay attention to what they were saying.

You wouldn’t have been able to hear them anyway – the blood rushing in your ears was far too loud. This wasn’t the Dean and Sam you wanted. You wanted to go back to your perfect world, where Sam had Jess and they were pregnant, where you could be with _your_ Dean and with Bobby and Charlie. Thinking of your children broke your heart and a tear slipped from your eye again. You let out a sob and turned over, facing away from the Winchesters.

You were vaguely aware that one of them sat on the bed beside you, hand rubbing your shoulder as you sobbed into the pillow. When you didn’t respond to them – you _couldn’t_ respond – they eventually got up to let you have your space. 

You heard the motel door open and close, indicating that one or both of the Winchesters had left. You laid there crying for a bit longer before lolling back into sleep.

The next time you woke was because you were gently being nudged awake. You slowly opened your eyes to see Dean sitting above you, and for a moment you thought it was _your_ Dean. You smiled at him and sat up, before noticing that you were not at your house in yours and Dean’s bedroom, but at the motel. The instant you realized that, the smile was gone from your face and you were morose once more.

If you had continued looking at Dean, you would have seen the confused and sad response in his eyes when he realized you weren’t happy to see him. He knew there was something wrong, and he would do anything to fix it.

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean began, reaching out to you before you flinched away from his touch. He pulled his hand back and frowned before continuing. “Cas is here and will zap you back to the bunker, if you’re not feeling up for the drive back.”

It took you a moment for his words to register. Cas hadn’t been in your perfect reality, and you had to remind yourself who and what he was, as it seemed like years had passed to you. You thought about the possibility of spending hours in the car with Dean and Sam and mentally sighed a sigh of relief that you had an alternative.

Without speaking, you nodded your head at Dean and looked across the room to see Cas standing beside Sam. Both of them had a worried look on their faces, and you climbed out of the bed to move toward Cas.

Silently you closed your eyes and leaned slightly forward, offering your forehead to the angel for transportation. Since your eyes were closed, you didn’t see the look the three men shared before Cas took you away.

Cas zapped you straight into your room at the bunker, and you immediately stepped away from him to collapse on your bed. You closed your eyes to get comfortable, but it still didn’t feel right. You wanted to be in your bed, the bed you shared with Dean. You grabbed a pillow and clutched it to your chest, silent tears soaking the pillowcase.

Cas came around to the bed and sat down, desperate to ease your pain.

“Y/N,” Cas said quietly, not wanting to startle you. You opened your watery eyes to look at him, seeing the frown on his face. “What can I do for you?”

You sat up slightly, wiping your eyes. Cas looked so sincere, and you told yourself that he had nothing to do with your sadness.

Cas had been a good friend to you since you met, often joining you and the boys on hunts and in the bunker. It was strange that he hadn’t been present in your fantasy world, but that helped you deal with his presence here now – he didn’t remind you of something that you desperately wanted back. 

You spoke for the first time since Dean woke you up from the dream, “Just sit with me?”

Cas smiled and moved on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and crossing his legs at the ankles. “Of course, Y/N. I can sit with you as long as you like.”

You lifted Cas’s arm that was nearest to you and snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest. His fingers drew circles along your arm and back, sending you to sleep once more.

* * *

“I’m telling you, Sam, something’s wrong. Y/N’s much worse than I was when I got out of my djinn world – I fought my way out. There’s something different going on here.”

Dean was driving the first leg back to the bunker, the boys having finished up quickly in New Union after you left. He was worried about you, especially after seeing the incredibly sad look in your eyes, and the fact that you hadn’t spoken since you woke up.

“I know Dean. But there’s nothing to tell us that these djinn were different than normal. I’ll definitely look into the lore when we get back, though.” Sam had already gone through the few books they kept in the trunk, but came up with no information on different types of djinn. He wasn’t fully convinced that this was some sort of “special” djinn, but he didn’t mind researching to make sure.

“We just need to get back, fast, so that we can be there for her. She needs to know she’s okay.” Dean was obviously done talking, as he reached for the stereo knob and turned his music up, full blast. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, before balling his jacket up to use as a pillow for a short nap.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: depression

The sunshine through the window was warm on your face, waking you with a pleasant tingling. You turned to look next to you and saw Dean laying there, a soft smile on his face in his sleep. As softly as you could, you kissed his cheek before sliding out of bed, pulling on your fuzzy bathrobe and slippers.

You padded down the hallway to Bobby’s room and peeked your head in. He was still sound asleep, miraculously, and you left his door open for when he woke. A few more steps down the hallway found you in Charlie’s room, who was pleasantly gurgling in her crib.

You picked up your daughter, cooing at her and peppering her face with kisses as you moved her to the changing table. Quickly going through your morning routine with her, you sat in the rocking chair with a changed and sweet-smelling baby girl.

Rocking gently, you sang to her softly. “I used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that it’s true,” you caressed Charlie’s cheeks. “And I don’t want to spend my whole life, just waiting for you.”

Charlie’s hand grasped your finger and she gurgled. “Now I don’t want you back for the weekend, not back for a day…” Bobby ran his way into the room, climbing precociously onto your lap next to Charlie.

“I said baby I just want you back, and I want you to stay…” You saw Dean lean against the doorframe and smiled at him, before continuing to sing to your children.

“I’m walking on sunshine, whoa… I’m walking on sunshine, whoa… I’m walking on sunshine, whoa, and don’t it feel good…”

* * *

Sam and Dean stood at your doorway, observing as you sang in your sleep, curled against Cas’s chest. Cas’s brow was furrowed with worry, and he looked to the brothers for guidance.

Sheepishly, Sam shrugged, not knowing what to do about a sleep-singing Y/N. Dean walked toward the bed and perched on the edge of it, placing one of his calloused hands on your arm.

He gently shook your arm, whispering softly, “Y/N, Sammy and I made it back.” You stirred in your sleep, grasping at Cas’s middle momentarily. “Y/N, what can we do for you? Are you hungry?”

Your eyes finally opened, and you saw Dean’s face right in front of you. Just like when you awoke from your djinn dream, you smiled at him at first, so happy you had your Dean back. You sat up quickly and put your arms around his neck, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist to hug you.

You pulled back from the embrace to kiss him, and that was when you were finally aware of your surroundings. Hands still on Dean’s shoulders, your brow furrowed and a sob escaped your lips. 

Dean’s hands were still on your waist, and he moved them to cup your face. “Y/N, what’s wrong? You’re safe, we’re here,” he said gently, rubbing a thumb across your cheekbone. You closed your eyes as tears began to fall. “Me, Sammy, Cas – we’re here for you, whatever you need.”

You pulled away from Dean, his voice taunting you with what you so desperately wanted, what you _had_ before you awoke. You laid back down on the bed, curling in on yourself as you sobbed.

The three men looked on helplessly as you laid there. Communicating silently, they made their way to the hall just outside your door.

Dean spoke first, “You two saw that right? She was happy – hugged me – and then she just lost it. I don’t understand.”

Sam nodded, his mind working to figure out what could be wrong. “Cas, did she say anything last night, give you any clues as to what happened?”

Cas shook his head. “Unfortunately the only thing she spoke was a request to sit with her. Of course I did that, and she fell asleep quickly. She was happy as she slept, I could tell from the warmth of her soul.” Cas looked between the brothers. “Once she woke, after she hugged Dean, that warmth left.”

“So what’s wrong, man? Is she hurt, does she need healing?” Dean hissed, not completely understanding what a ‘warm’ soul meant, but wanting to keep that permanent.

Once again, Cas shook his head. “I don’t believe so, but I can try. Let me spend some more time with her, as she seems calm around me. I’ll let you know what I find.”

Sam spoke up, “I’m going to look into different types of djinn. Maybe their poison is still doing something.”

The three of them nodded, Sam heading to the library as Cas turned back to your room. Dean stood in the doorway and watched as Cas perched back on your bed, turning your body toward him.

As you saw it was Cas, you attached yourself to his middle once more, resting your head against his chest. When you had gotten comfortable, Cas met Dean’s eyes, seeing the worry there.

Slowly, Dean turned away to give you and Cas privacy, hoping to Chuck that Cas could fix you.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: depression

Cas let you snuggle against him for a while, taking the time as you were relaxed to gently examine you with his grace. He first worked on your body, replenishing the blood that you had lost to the djinn feedings and healing your wrists and neck where there were puncture marks and raw skin. Next, he moved to your soul – it wasn’t cold at the moment, but it wasn’t as warm as it had been when you were asleep.

Cas could tell that something was missing, but his grace wasn’t able to heal it properly. There wasn’t an injury to your soul, just a feeling that it was emptier than normal. He would have to come back to it later, probably speaking with you to get your permission before truly delving in to examine you.

Lastly, Cas very gently trailed his grace over your mind. After healing Sam’s mind from Lucifer’s attack, he had been very careful about healing people’s minds, but he believed that the djinn who had been keeping you in your dream world had injured you there the most.

Cas found stress and worry in your thoughts, but more than that he found great grief and sorrow. His brow furrowed in confusion at those feelings. From what little he understood of the human emotional spectrum, grief and sorrow were most likely felt when a person lost a loved one, but Cas couldn’t think of anyone close to you or the Winchesters who had died recently.

Noticing that you had fallen back asleep as he worked, Cas gently pried himself from your grip, replacing himself with one of your pillows so that you wouldn’t notice immediately that he had left you. Cas tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead softly before he left, making his way to the library.

Sam, as expected, was elbows deep in lorebooks. Dean, also as expected, was sitting across from Sam drinking whiskey. The bottle in front of him was only half full, and Cas could only assume that Dean had been drinking since their conversation in the hallway.

Both brothers looked up at Cas eagerly when he walked in, hoping for a positive report.

“I have examined her body, soul, and mind to heal her,” Cas began, pulling out the chair next to Dean. “She has fallen back asleep, which I think is just as important for her healing process as any of my healing is.”

“So what’s wrong with her?” Dean blurted, wanting to know if Cas actually fixed you and you’d be back to normal.

Shaking his head slightly, Cas replied, “I’m not sure.”

Dean looked as if he wanted to say something to that, but Sam cut him off. “I haven’t been able to find anything about djinn affecting the humans after they’ve been killed,” he began, pulling a book close to him. “Djinn poison their victims with a touch, causing hallucinations, as we know. They drink their victim’s blood as they hallucinate, or their fear, like the one on the case with Charlie. That being said, all the lore books claim that once the djinn has been killed, the poison also dissipates. The hallucination ends, the people wake up.”

Dean sat forward in his seat, taking in what Sam reviewed. “So did we miss one? I mean, djinn don’t usually go around in large groups, and we got three of them.”

Cas disappeared from his chair in response.

Dean rolled his eyes and continued. “You can stay here and watch Y/N, I’ll go back to New Union to triple check that there aren’t any more djinn hanging around there. That’s the only thing it could be, right? She’s still stuck in her hallucination?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t think so, man. I mean, she woke up. She isn’t stuck in her dream-world anymore. I think it’s something else.”

Cas re-appeared. “There are no more djinn in New Union, or anywhere in Tennessee for that matter. Y/N is no longer under the spell of a djinn.”

“It’s gotta be something else, then,” Sam commented, closing the book on djinn immediately in front of him.

Dean threw back another shot of whiskey, immediately pouring himself more.

The three of them sat there for a few quiet moments, each lost in their own thoughts of djinn, you, and how they would do anything to help you get better.

* * *

You woke up once more, this time alone in your room in the bunker. You had now been awake from your djinn-world enough times that you knew the moment you woke up where you were – that you were exactly where you _didn’t_ wish to be.

Why couldn’t they have left you there? You knew it wasn’t real, but you had chosen to stay. You were happier there than you ever could be in the real world.

You couldn’t be happy here.

Especially when _here_ was a place with Sam and Dean – more specifically: a Sam who wasn’t married to Jess and about to have a child, and a Dean who was not married to you, in love with you, and the father of your children.

For what seemed like the millionth time, tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You stood up, deciding that you needed to do something. But what? You couldn’t do anything you wanted to do.

You couldn’t go play with Bobby and the remote control car Dean had just bought him.

You couldn’t go sit with Charlie, rocking her in the chair in her room, trying to get her to say ‘mama’.

You couldn’t call up Jo and Donna to have a playdate with the kids.

You couldn’t go help Jess plan her baby’s room or brainstorm names.

You couldn’t visit Dean at work at the garage and try to distract him into taking a break.

You sat back down on your bed, staring at the floor, thinking of all the things you had lost. All of the things that Dean had made you lose, just because he was selfish enough to wake you up.

This was all his fault. This was all his fault and he had no idea.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: depression

The boys left you alone for the rest of that day, only entering your room to offer you food and water, which they left on your desk. Each time they came in, it was to see you sitting on your bed, staring into space. They felt helpless, unable to figure out what they could do to help you.

The next morning they were all in the kitchen and eating breakfast. Unable to take the silence anymore, Sam spoke up. “Cas, what you said yesterday – you examined Y/N’s body, soul, and mind. What did you mean?”

Dean looked up from his food, interested in the answer as well.

Cas took a breath before explaining. “The first thing I did was heal Y/N physically. You know that djinn take their victim’s blood – I worked to replenish it first, then healed the places they had cut and bruised her. That was the easy part.” Sam nodded in understanding, listening intently.

“Next I allowed my grace to connect with Y/N’s soul.” Cas paused, trying to put into words what he wanted to say to the boys. “Angels aren’t necessarily supposed to interact with a human’s soul, but –“ He cleared his throat as the brothers sent each other worried looks. “But I was worried. Very briefly, I examined Y/N’s soul. She seems…not full…like something was missing. A bit cold…well, not exactly cold, but not her usual warm soul. Colder and emptier than normal. And definitely colder and emptier than while she was sleeping, or in the moments just after waking when she hugged you, Dean.”

Both Sam and Cas looked over at Dean, whose brow was furrowed. “But right after hugging me, she immediately started crying. Am I the reason why her soul is, um, cold?”

“What can make a soul cold or empty, Cas? What does that even mean?” Sam added, now worried that they were dealing with something much bigger than a djinn dream.

Cas thought for a moment, before replying. “I really don’t know. I didn’t want to spend too much time with her soul, without her knowledge and permission. All I know is that it’s not life threatening, but it has changed inside of her.”

Silence filled the room for a few moments as they processed. Cas spoke up again, finishing the answer to Sam’s question. “I also examined Y/N’s mind, which is a complicated thing to say the least.” Sam snorted in response, knowing exactly what Cas was referring to. 

Cas continued. “You two know that human emotions are still slightly out of my knowledge zone, but I am learning. The emotions rolling around in her mind were predominantly great sorrow and grief. It was as if Y/N has recently lost a loved one, but as far as we know, she hasn’t. I’m not sure why she is feeling that way, but that’s what was there.”

Once again, the room was quiet, letting the brothers think as they ate the rest of their breakfast. After a few moments, Cas stood and filled a plate with fruit and toast.   
“I will take this to Y/N and see how she is faring,” Cas announced, turning to head down the hallway and leave the brothers to their own thoughts.

Cas knocked quietly as he got to your door, but opened it almost immediately, knowing that you wouldn’t announce for him to enter. He found you as you had been each time before – sitting quietly on your bed, staring into space. For a brief moment, Cas invaded your privacy and entered your mind. 

He saw a small boy’s face, smiling as he held a plastic airplane in his hand and ran around a large yard. That was all Cas allowed himself to view, as he didn’t wish to overstep his bounds as your friend.

“Y/N?” he said quietly, causing your eyes to turn to him. “I brought you fruit and toast.” Glancing over at the table to see your dinner from the night before, untouched, he continued, “You really should eat something, it’s been days now.”

You looked between Cas’s face and the plate he was holding. You really didn’t want to eat anything, nothing would ever be as good as eating with your family: Bobby, Charlie, and Dean. You almost turned away from Cas and the food, but your stomach gave you away when it growled noisily in response. You looked down at it as if it had betrayed you, but still didn’t say anything. 

You motioned to Cas to sit with you. Without speaking, you took a few grapes and slowly ate them, enjoying the flavor. In complete silence, you ate everything that Cas had brought, which made him happy.

Once the plate was empty and Cas had laid it on your bedside table, he held his arm up for you to snuggle against him once more. Your eyes closed as you did so, knowing that Cas was doing his best to take care of you and was probably the only one around who could let your mind settle, since he hadn’t been in your djinn fantasy.

“Can I do anything else for you, Y/N?” Cas whispered quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment between the two of you. You shook your head against his chest in response, not wanting to speak.

“Do you want to go watch television today?” Cas kept whispering, hoping he could coax you out of your room. “It’s been a while since we last watched Netflix, and I know that some new seasons have come out.”

You smiled softly against Cas’s chest, knowing that watching Netflix with him used to be one of your favorite things to do. Maybe it would be a good thing to go back to your old habits with Cas – he could help you forget.

But did you want to forget? _No, never_.

“Maybe later, Cas,” was your quiet response, before you rolled away from him, curling around your pillow and closing your eyes. You heard Cas sigh before he shifted behind you, kissing your head. He grabbed the plate and left your room quietly, heading back to the kitchen. 

Cas put your plate away to be washed before moving to the library where Sam and Dean were now settled. Cas grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil, sat down at one of the long tables, and began sketching.

His hand moved quickly across the paper, not needing to think about what he was doing, but merely moving his hand back and forth as if it was printing the image instead of drawing it. 

When he was done, he looked over the image he had drawn of Bobby playing with his airplane in your backyard – the image that he had seen in your mind. Not recognizing the child or location, he turned the drawing toward Sam and Dean, asking the brothers, “Who is this child?”


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: depression

The image haunted the boys all day, as it was haunting your mind as well. Sam, Dean, and Cas had never seen the boy before, and they began looking into your family history and past hunting cases pre-team-up to see if he was a relative or someone that you had saved before you met them.

It was already mid-afternoon when Cas drew the image, but Sam spent well into the night looking through missing persons databases, elementary school yearbooks, and every little league or youth soccer team photo he could get his hands on to see if they could identify the boy.

Dean was trying to track your life from before you met the brothers, hoping that he could find the boy that way. He sketched out a timeline of your life with the major points that he knew – where you were born, where you went to college, where your parents died, where your aunt died – starting his search for the boy in those locations.

The more he filled in the blanks of your life story, finding things out about you he hadn’t known before, the more he felt like you were a complete stranger to him, and he found himself wishing that he had asked you about yourself more.

Castiel was flying in and out of the bunker, going to public libraries and elementary schools that hadn’t put records up on the internet for Sam to find. Each time he came back, Sam and Dean looked up at him hopefully, and each time he disappointed them with a shake of his head.

By the next morning, they had still not found the boy.

Castiel explained what he saw in your mind, and all three of them were convinced that this boy has something to do with the change in your soul and the grief and sorrow you were feeling. If they could only find out who the boy was and what happened to him, they would maybe know what to say to you.

By the next afternoon when they had found no leads, Dean decided to try to speak with you. He grabbed some more fruit and toast, seemingly the only thing you were willing to eat at the moment, and headed toward your room.

After spending so much time digging around in your past, he was nervous to see you. The only one of the boys who had been to your room in the past couple days was Castiel, and the last time you saw Dean you had begun to cry… He couldn’t take being the one to make you hurt. 

Maybe you will have gotten better since he saw you last.

Dean took a deep breath and knocked quietly on your door, waiting a moment before he pushed it open. He took in the room in front of him, seeing you curled up into a ball on your bed, surrounded by pillows. The lights were dimmed and there was soft jazz music coming from somewhere – Cas probably had turned that on to help calm you down.

You didn’t look at the door when Dean stepped in the room, so he called out your name softly, “Y/N? It’s Dean…” he laughed at himself. “Of course you know that, I’m sorry.” Dean walked the few paces between the door and your bedside, kneeling down so that he would be eye-level with you, if your eyes were open, that is. 

He sighed. “I brought you some more food, if you want it.”

Dean watched as you blinked your eyes open, not focusing on anything for a minute. You stretched, pushing some of the pillows away from your body, before sitting up. Dean held the plate out to you, as a sort of peace offering. He gave you a small smile, hoping that you would return it.

You didn’t.

But, smile or no smile, you did take the plate of food. You began nibbling on the toast, looking anywhere around the room except for Dean. You weren’t sure if you could take it to look him in the eyes, be reminded of what you had lost.

Dean tried to get your attention again.

“Y/N, you know that I am here for you, I’m always here for you,” he started, his words hurting. He didn’t know that, though, so he kept talking. “If you ever need to talk to someone, if something is bothering you, if you just need a friend, I’m here. All you have to do is ask.”

At the word ‘friend’ your eyes spilled over. Unable to eat any more, you pushed the plate of food back into Dean’s hands, rolled away from him, and closed your eyes, willing the tears to stop, but failing.

You didn’t see the hurt look on Dean’s face or the way his shoulders slumped. You didn’t see the way that he was hurting too – not the same way that you were, but with no less validity.

Dean might have been accidentally hurting you, but you were accidentally hurting him right back.

* * *

Sam watched as Dean returned to the library, shoulders slumped and a frown on his face.

“Well?” Sam prompted, wanting to hear what was new with you, or with Dean.

Dean pulled out his whiskey once more, poured two fingers, and downed it quickly. “I got her eating a bit, man, it seemed alright…” he started, staring into his empty glass. He filled it again. “Then I just was talking, saying that I’m here for her, if she wants to talk-“ Dean drank. “And she just shut me down. Gave me the plate back, rolled over to cry some more.”

Dean looked up at his brother, eyes showing how lost he was feeling. “I have no idea what’s going on, but I think she hates me, man.”

Sam didn’t quite know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. That was when Castiel returned to the room, and Sam explained Dean’s visit with you, watching his brother out of the corner of his eye as more whiskey disappeared.

Cas nodded, looking toward the hallway. “I haven’t seen much progress, to be honest with you,” he admitted, walking over to the table where the sketch of Bobby lay.

Sam watched as Cas fiddled with the edge of the paper, waiting patiently for whatever comment came next from the angel’s mouth. 

“We need a new approach. Come with me,” Castiel finally said, turning toward the hallway, sketch in hand.   
Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment, confused, before they both hustled out of their chairs and followed Cas. He was waiting for them at your door, one hand poised to knock. When the brothers were standing beside him, unsure if they were ready for what Cas had planned, he knocked and opened the door.

You were in the exact position that Dean had left you in, which made his chest hurt. He wished he could do something for you…

“Y/N,” Castiel’s voice was strong, louder than anything the three of them had said to you since you had woken up. It startled you, your body tensing from the volume. “Sit up, Y/N, we need to speak with you.”

Sam and Dean shared a look, not sure if they wanted to be a part of Castiel being _mean_ to you. He hadn’t done anything mean outright yet, but with the way he was talking…

Your brow was furrowed and your face guarded as you sat up. Dean could see wet streaks on your cheeks where you had been freshly crying, but you weren’t about to cry now. 

You looked pissed.

“Y/N,” Castiel said again, as he made his way to your bed. He held the image of Bobby out to you, right in front of your face so that you would see it clearly.

Your eyes widened at the drawing.

“Who is this, Y/N? Who is he to you? Is he the reason why you’re sad?”

You took the paper from Castiel, holding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. One of your fingers brushed its way across Bobby’s face, wishing you could feel his skin instead of old paper.

Sam took half of a step forward, eager to hear your answer. Dean on the other hand stayed back, leaning against the doorframe in case you blew.

“Y/N?” Castiel prompted again, when you hadn’t said anything. 

His voice broke you from your trance, and your eyes left the paper to look first at Cas, then at Sam, then rest on Dean.

Very quietly, and still looking at Dean, you answered.

“He was my son.”


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: depression

After your confession, the boys left your room in shock. You sat on your bed for hours, clutching the sketch of Bobby that Castiel had made and crying.

Crying over everything you’d lost, crying over the fact that none of the men in the bunker could ever know what it feels like to lose a child.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel all gave you a sad glance before closing your door behind them, silently making their way back to the library. They each sat down, Dean by the whiskey once more, Sam by his computer, and Castiel in the empty chair across from Dean.

Finally Dean broke the silence. 

“Her _son_?”

Sam met his eyes, confusion swirling between them. Castiel sighed, loudly enough that the boys both looked at him.

“It must have been her son in the djinn world – the Y/N we know has never given birth, or I would have known based on the number of times I’ve healed her,” he spoke, hands wringing in his lap.

Dean chugged some whiskey straight from the bottle.

“So Y/N has been grieving this whole time for her world she was stuck in, because she lost a child?” Sam asked the room, but no one answered. They were all equally in shock over this news, and none of them knew what it was that they could do for you.

While they had all lost people close to them, they had never lost a child, or at least lost the idea of a child.

They could all do only so much to empathize with the woman who was falling asleep a few rooms away.

* * *

You were woken up by the sun shining on your face again, the tingling feeling warming you from the inside out.

Immediately you knew that you hadn’t, in fact, woken up, because you were in your room in the bunker.

That didn’t stop Bobby from hopping on your chest, snuggling his face under your chin. Your arms immediately went around him, taking a deep breath of his scent. It was calming, and for the first time in days you were happy again.

“Mom,” Bobby said into your chest, the sound muffled as it hummed through your skin.

“Yeah, bug, what’s up?” you asked, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill. The knowledge that none of this was real was pounding in your mind, and you were doing your best to keep it away from enjoying the moment.

Bobby lifted himself away from you, sitting onto his feet next to your hip. You mirrored his movements, scooching yourself upward so you were leaned against your headboard. As you were doing so, you saw the engagement picture of you and Dean on your bedside table, the family portrait of you, Dean, Bobby, and newborn Charlie on the wall across the room.

You looked back at him before the tears could escape.

“Mom, I want you to be happy,” Bobby said simply, his small hands grabbing yours. “You deserve to be happy, and that’s what I want.”

You smiled at him, wishing it was that simple. “Oh, baby, I want to be happy too. But I miss you too much to be happy…”

“Mom…first of all, gross.” You actually got a small laugh out from his blunt comment. “Second of all,” he continued, “You always told me that you had three happiest days ever: the day Char was born, the day I was born, and the day you married Dad.”

You looked down at your joined hands, remembering how you had said that to him years ago – or days ago, you supposed, in your djinn dream. It was all too confusing, these mixed up memories.

“It’s not that simple, sweetheart,” you tried to tell him. “None of that –“ you choked on a sob. “None of that is real. It’s all in my mind, and I know now that I never actually had that.”

You looked Bobby straight in the eyes. “I never actually had you.”

Bobby nodded, a solemn and adult look on his face, one that you hadn’t ever seen on your son before. This was no longer your Bobby. This was a part of you that was trying to make you see reason, your subconscious sent to you in a dream, just shaped like Bobby.

“Mom. You might not have _my_ dad, or _me_ , or _Charlie_ , but you have the _real_ Dean Winchester, and the _real_ Uncle Sam, and so much more. It’s all out there, waiting for you. They are there for you, you just have to let them in, let them help you.”

The words coming from your son’s mouth were right, you couldn’t disagree. The real Dean and Sam were there, wanting to help you. The real Cas had been there all along.

It was time to wake up. It was time to start fresh. But not quite yet.

You opened your arms to your son, and he lept into them. You cried on his shoulder, knowing that you were no longer comforting your son, but he – your _subconscious_ – was comforting you. After a few minutes, you let him go, holding him at arms length.

“Ready?” he asked you, and you smiled. 

“One more thing, bug.”

You hopped out of your bed, running to Charlie’s room. As expected, your subconsious’s version of your baby girl was laying in her crib, gurgling happily. You caressed your fingers over her head, smiling down at her for the last time.

“Maybe someday, baby girl,” you whispered. “Maybe someday I’ll see you again, in another life.”

You turned to see Bobby at the door, holding his hand out to you. With a deep breath, you walked toward him, a pleasant feeling washing over your mind and body.

* * *

Dean stood at your doorway, watching as you cried in your sleep, yet again. But then, all of a sudden, the crying stopped, and you smiled softly.

Not knowing why, but not wanting to push anything further, Dean snuck out of your room silently, leaving you alone once more.

He didn’t know what was going on with you, with your _son_ , but there was one thing he did know. 

He was going to be there for you, no matter what. That’s the only thing he knew for sure.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

The next couple days passed, tension palpable in the bunker. Your admission about your son was haunting the boys, and none of them really knew what to do to comfort you. 

For you, however, your dream of Bobby was slowly getting you to a better place. After seeing the picture of him, holding it at every possible moment, and having the conversation with him about letting go and getting back out there, you were feeling much better.

The third day after the dream, you got up, showered, and got dressed. Sure, motions were slow and lethargic, and a few times you just wanted to crawl back into your covers, but they were happening for the first time in a while. Baby steps, right?

When you were ready, you walked into the kitchen, a look of shock crossing the boys’ faces when you stopped in the doorway. They took a moment to give you a visual check, seeing that you were wearing clean clothes, your stance was protective, but no longer closed off completely, and your eyes weren’t dull like they had been for so long.

When the four of you had taken enough time to stare at each other, each of the boys sprang into action, startling you a bit.

Castiel walked over to you, putting his arm around your waist and grabbing your hand to lead you to a chair, which he pulled out for you to sit. 

Sam went to the coffee pot, pouring you a cup and fixing it with your cream and sugar, just the way you liked it. 

Dean, who was manning the stove, came over and asked very quietly, as if he didn’t want to startle you, “What would you like, Y/N? We’ve got bacon, eggs, and hash on the stove, or you can have oatmeal, or fruit, or toast…”

You cut him off with a gesture of your hand. “Bacon, eggs, and hash sounds delicious, Dean, thank you.”

He nodded enthusiastically, heading back over to finish breakfast. He dumped the food onto a couple plates, as Sam already had a bowl of oatmeal and fruit in front of him.

Dean set the plate in front of you before sitting down as well, and for the first time in a while you felt happy. Sure, they were all still watching you closely, seeing if there was anything wrong and making sure they were ready for any emotional outbursts, but you felt at home for the first time in a long time.

You all ate silently – or Sam, Dean, and you ate silently while Castiel just sat there, silently. None of you really knew what to say, or how to start a conversation. The boys desperately wanted to talk to you about things, but none of them wanted to upset you. You wanted to bring things up, but didn’t have any idea where to start.

Eventually the food was all gone and the four of you were still sitting around the empty kitchen table. Dean was wringing his hands in an attempt to calm himself, and Sam was absentmindedly stirring his mostly empty coffee.

Finally, you reached into your pocket, pulling out the sketch of Bobby. Even though it was only a few days old, the paper was worn from where you had been holding it.

You could tell they were all holding their breaths, waiting for you to say something. You took a calming breath in and out, before you finally spoke, breaking the silence.

“This is Bobby. He was my son, in – in that world. He was always full of energy, typical five-year-old, would wake me up every morning by jumping on my bed. He loved playing outside, loved airplanes…”

Your eyes were tearing up at the memories, feeling the loss again. You kept speaking, your voice getting heavier by the second. “Bobby was a wonderful big brother. His sister, Charlie, was just nine months old. She had the prettiest eyes, and her favorite food was Cheerios. I could set her in her high-chair with a plate full of Cheerios and she would just smile and eat them all day long.”

The room was completely silent, the boys listening intently to your story.

“Jo and Donna had their kids around the same time that I had Charlie. We’d all go on play dates, letting our kids run around together while we sat and gossiped. They were so happy, and their kids…”

You gulped, finally making eye contact with Sam across the table. “And Sam… Jess was there.” You heard him gasp, watched as his eyes filled with unshed tears. “She was so beautiful, and you were so happy. You had just come over for dinner one night, to tell me that you were finally pregnant.” A tear slipped down Sam’s cheek and he sniffed, not even trying to cover up his crying. “Jess would have been a wonderful mother, and you, Sammy, you’d be the best dad. You were already so great with Bobby and Charlie, always wanting to babysit them for practice…”

You let silence fill the room for a minute more as Sam thought about what you told him. You could tell that he wished for the same thing, and the fact that your djinn world had included his dreams too – it was hitting him hard.

Finally you turned to Dean.

“What about me, sweetheart? You make Sammy cry like that, I’m sure you got something for me too…” Dean trailed off, unsure if he wanted to hear what you were going to tell him.

“You, Dean… You were there. Had such a successful auto shop, you loved going to work every day. You’d tell us all about the cars you were working on, your eyes would just light up about it. Brighter than anything, or…”

You trailed off, unsure if you could tell Dean what made him the happiest in your djinn world. After all, it might not be what made him happiest in _this_ world, the real world. Could you really burden him with the knowledge that _he_ was your dream?

“Or what?” he prompted, catching your eye again.

“The only things that made you happier than the shop,” you paused again, finding the words. “Your family, Dean. Your family made you happiest of all.”

Dean nodded, unsurprised at your words. You knew you had to clarify.

“Bobby and Charlie – they were yours, Dean.”


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Nothing else was said at the breakfast table, so you got up and left the boys to their own thoughts. You were emotionally exhausted, anyways, retreating to your room once more. You spent the rest of the day there, unsure if you had done the right thing by telling them about your djinn world.

Eventually Castiel came and joined you, and you snuggled into his side. He kissed your forehead lovingly, and you relaxed into him.

“So I’m assuming that since you didn’t tell me what I was doing in your djinn world, that means I wasn’t there?” Cas asked you, speaking to the top of your head.

You pulled away so that you could see his face. “It’s not that I didn’t want you there, Cas!” you clarified, afraid he would think you didn’t want him as a part of your life.

Cas laughed at your worry, shhing you quickly. “It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not upset, I promise.”

You sighed, hoping he was telling the truth. “I think that’s why I’ve been okay with you being around me since I’ve been back,” you admitted. “You don’t remind me of what I’m missing, so I’m able to spend time with you without being sad.”

Cas tucked you back under his arm, comforting you. “Well in that case, I’m glad I wasn’t there. I want to make the real-world you happy, and I think I’ve been helping?”  
You nodded against his chest. “You have been, thank you Cas. If it weren’t for you…”

You trailed off, not knowing what would have happened if Cas hadn’t been around lately to help you. Just the fact that he had sat with you, brought you food, talked to you, it had all helped you more than you had realized.

The two of you sat quietly for a few minutes before Cas cleared his throat. “So, Netflix?”

You giggled. “Let’s.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Dean had made his way to the library and his trusty bottle of whiskey once more. After your confession, he had no idea how to interpret the thoughts and feelings swirling around in his head, and whiskey was his solution to that.

Sam joined him after a while, but he was so wrapped up in thoughts of Jess that he didn’t have the energy to talk with Dean. He busied himself on the computer, quickly finding a hunt in Nebraska.

Sam cleared his throat, pulling Dean’s eyes out of the bottom of his glass and toward him. “Hunt in Nebraska. Wanna go?”

Sam knew that a hunt would get Dean’s mind off of things, which usually helped his brother make important decisions. He watched as Dean downed the rest of his glass and nodded.

“Baby in 15,” was all Dean said, before he disappeared to pack his bag. Sam sighed, hoping that the hunt would clear both their minds.

A soft knock was all Sam gave you and Cas as he told you they were leaving, and should be back in a day or two. The two of you nodded, immediately drawn back into your Netflix. 

A little time apart would hopefully do everyone some good.

* * *

The hunt was easy – a newborn vamp was causing a ruckus after fleeing his maker, so he was pretty easy to find and kill without the mentoring he would have gotten. The boys were finished by nightfall the day after they left, but decided to spend the night in Nebraska anyway.

They wound up at a bar, two melancholy brothers getting lost in their first glass of whiskey. Neither of them really felt like drinking, but were merely going through the motions.

Finally Sam spoke.

“I dream about it too, you know,” he started, and Dean grunted at him to continue. “Me and Jess, what would have happened if she wasn’t gone. Having a home with her, a kid. You being Uncle Dean.”

Sam sipped the whiskey, shloshing the liquid around in his mouth before swallowing.

“Uncle Dean, huh,” Dean responded, a dry chuckle leaving his lips. “I’d be the best uncle, Sammy.”

Sam laughed, nudging Dean with his shoulder. “You’d ruin my kids, dude.”

Dean joined him in laughter to agree, but it only lasted for a moment. Almost immediately silence fell around them once again.

Sam cleared his throat again.

“What do you think?” he asked, not making eye contact with Dean.

“What do I think about what?” Dean responded, feigning ignorance.

“Dean,” Sam said as sternly as possible while still being gentle. “What do you think about – ah. Bobby, Charlie, Y/N, and….you?”

Dean grunted once more, sipping his whiskey to finish it off. He stared into the bottom of the glass, wishing he could just disappear for a while.

“Bobby, Charlie,” he finally said. “Good names for kids, dontcha think?”

Sam was silent, hoping that Dean would get on to what they really needed to talk about.

Finally Dean spoke again. “Y/N…Me… Hell, she deserves better than that, and you know it.”

“Dean,” Sam replied, exasperation in his voice. He didn’t have to continue his argument, as Dean’s hand was up and waving away Sam’s argument.

“I know, Sammy. I’ve heard you before, I know what you’re going to say. It’s just – Y/N. She’s, I don’t know, she’s Y/N.” Dean waved at the bartender for a refill before continuing. “She’s just amazing. Sure as hell too good for me. Too…incredible. I don’t know what else to say.”

Sam nodded, knowing that was probably all he was going to get from Dean. They didn’t stay at the bar much longer, only long enough for each of them to get lost again in thoughts of Jess and you.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

It was mid-day when Sam and Dean got back to the bunker. You and Cas heard the door open and close from where you were cooking in the kitchen, but you didn’t go out to meet them. Castiel knew that you were still getting back to normal, and he was going to be there for you every step of the way.

The boys took their bags to their respective rooms, doing whatever it was that they needed to do now that they were home. You and Cas continued preparing your extravagant dinner – you had decided to try cooking as a sort of therapy and were happy to say that it was working.

At any rate, you had an incredibly complicated lasagna cooking in the oven, vegetables steaming on the stove, three pies already made with another ready to cook, and were currently kneading fresh dough to make bread.

Castiel had seen you smile more during the past hour cooking than he had seen since you woke up, something that he was incredibly happy to note to himself.

Eventually, Sam and Dean’s noses led them to the kitchen to find out what was happening, and they were excited to see all of the food that was being prepared.

Without saying a word, you cut a piece of still-steaming pecan pie, putting the plate in front of Dean and handing him a fork. You gave him a small smile, and he returned it tenfold. He didn’t stop looking at you, not even when you turned away from him and back to the stove.

It wasn’t until Sam cleared his throat and kicked Dean’s foot that Dean looked away from you, shrugging at his brother and diving into the pie.

While the kitchen was quiet, it was a peaceful atmosphere, and all four of you were happy to just be together.

When Dean finished his pie, he stood to clean off the plate, moving so that he was right next to you at the counter. 

“How’s it going, Y/N?” he asked quietly, running the water over the plate and fork.

He watched as you looked up at him, that same small smile on your face. “It’s going okay, Dean. Things are getting better, I think.”

Dean nodded at your response, and he took note of the way his chest constricted at your comment. Maybe things would continue getting better, maybe things would get better than they ever had been before. Maybe…

“Can I talk to you?” he suddenly blurted out, surprising even himself.

You nodded, wiping your hands on a dishtowel and turning to Cas. “I’ll be right back – don’t let those vegetables burn.”

Cas nodded at the command, his eyes following you and Dean’s figures as you went out toward the library. Cas and Sam locked eyes, questioning each other but finding no answers. With a shrug, Cas turned back to the stove.

You followed Dean to the library, sitting in the chair he pulled out for you. You fidgeted in the chair as he sat, patting your jeans and shirt as if you were straightening creases that weren’t there. This was the first time in a while that you had been with Dean alone, and it was certainly the first time since you had admitted to everyone that you and Dean had been together in your djinn world.

Your mind raced at the thought of what he wanted to talk about, worrying and beginning to panic about what he could say. Before your mind could get away from itself, Dean’s hand reached out to grab onto yours, steadying you.

You looked up at him, giving him your full attention and trying to keep your worries and sorrows at bay, at least for a moment.

“So, uh,” Dean started, and you could see that he was nervous. Why was he nervous? “Are you doing better, Y/N?”

You nodded, because you truly were doing better. Dean smiled at that response, and you could see relief in his eyes.

“Good, I’m glad. I’m glad that you’re better, because, uh…” Dean swallowed, his hand scratching the back of his neck. “I just, um. I don’t like it when you’re upset. Especially when I can’t fix things.”

You nodded again, knowing that Dean liked to be hands on, able to fix any little problem that arose. “Thank you, Dean,” was all that you could think to say, and you weren’t even quite sure if that’s what you meant, but he accepted it all the same.

You watched as Dean gathered his thoughts, and knew that you were just going to have to wait for him to speak. Finally he spoke again.

“I want you to know, Y/N,” he met your eyes. “I really care about you. Like, more than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time, maybe ever. And you having those dreams, those desires, and then telling us about them… I guess what I’m trying to say is that those dreams do sound pretty good.”

You waited, unsure of what Dean meant by his little speech.

“I mean,” Dean squeezed at your hand that you hadn’t realized he was still holding. You suddenly felt comfort oozing from his skin to yours, a feeling that you hadn’t felt since you were in your djinn world. “I know that you have lived a life in that world, a pretty full life with incredibly real memories, of us, and children, and the white-picket fence, and everything…”

You couldn’t breathe, waiting for what Dean was saying.

“I haven’t lived that life, not the same one that you lived, but… I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you want to start over, start from the beginning again, and maybe have things go a tad differently… I’d like to try to live that dream with you.”

Dean stopped speaking then, waiting for a sign from you that you had heard him. Your brain was ticking, shocked at what it was hearing. Dean – the _real_ Dean – wanted to try? With you? Were you dreaming again?

“Y/N?” Dean finally said, wondering if you understood.

You swallowed, trying to get the dry feeling from your mouth. “Um, yeah,” you said lamely, looking down at your clasped hands. “I’m sorry.”

Dean shook his head, unsure of what you were sorry for. You weren’t even sure what you were sorry for.

“Y/N, I’m not going to promise anything. You know how the life is, you know how much I’ve screwed up, how much I _will_ screw up. But maybe someday, if we try, we can be happy. We could be as happy as you were in that place, but it will be real. And I want to be right there with you. And maybe someday, there can be a Bobby, or a Charlie, and Sam can be an Uncle Sam, and Cas will be there, too, and we can all be happy…”

Dean’s blabbering was cut off when you launched your arms around his neck, hugging him with everything you had. Immediately his arms were wrapped around you, keeping you warm and safe.

You held the hug for a minute before pulling away. Dean didn’t let go of your hips, not wanting to let you out of his arms. 

“So is that a yes?” he asked lamely. “Do you want to give this a chance?”

You smiled, brighter than you had since before the djinn took you. “Yes, Dean. I’d love to try with you.”

Dean smiled right back at you, hand moving to cup your face before he leaned forward. You closed the distance to press your lips against his, and it felt as if all was right in the world again. 

Try. You would try, as long as Dean would try with you. Because with Dean, it felt like you could maybe, just maybe, have your perfect world.

_fin._


	18. Timestamp: White Picket Fence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A timestamp set after the events of Perfect World

“The third one down,” you said quietly, pointing just ahead. Dean slowed the Impala, pulling over to the curb before parking the car across the street from where you were pointing. 

You looked past him and toward the house, the two-story structure bringing back a flood of memories – no, not memories. Dreams that weren’t real.

Dean was looking at the house as well, quiet for a minute before he turned to you. He sighed, seeing the tears that were gathered in your eyes as you sat there. “Hey, don’t cry,” he insisted, reaching out to pull you close to him. You slid across the seat and into his arms, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“Sorry, I thought I’d be okay,” you replied, sniffing quietly. You wouldn’t let the tears fall. The tears were for something that wasn’t real. You were fine.

“You don’t have to be okay, Y/N,” Dean insisted, running his fingers through your hair. “It was real for you, it cut deep. You’ve been growing so much in the past year, and I admire you that you wanted to show me this place.”

Dean was right. It had been a year since you had been pulled out of that djinn fantasy, a year since you were traumatized more than you could have ever thought possible. Since then, however, Dean had been more than amazing during your recovery. Having been stuck in his own djinn world before, Dean understood how you could miss it. You had been under for so much longer than him, too, and once you’d opened up to him about everything that had happened there…

Dean was incredible, and the two of you were learning how to be together in this world, the _real_ world, instead of your djinn world.

When you realized that the house you and Dean (and Charlie and Bobby) had lived in was a real, actual house, you wanted to show Dean. You wanted to share with him the place that you’d wrapped your world around, just so that he could see it.

You didn’t really know why, but you needed to bring Dean here.

“It’s a nice house,” Dean said after a few minutes of quiet, his eyes back on the building. “Not white-picket fence, but pretty darn close.”

You giggled, nodding against his chest. “It was my perfect,” you whispered, making Dean pull away from you so he could see your face.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your lips. “And maybe that’s not our house, maybe that won’t ever be our house, but I promise you that the feeling you had in that house, the feeling of home and love and family – you’ll have that. We’ll have that, I’ll make sure of it.”

Tears gathered in your eyes again, this time not tears of longing for times past and unreal, but tears of love and hope for the future. “Dean,” you said, communicating as much in the single word of his name as you could.

“I know,” he replied, smiling before he pulled your face to his. “Slowly but surely, we’ll make your perfect world.” Dean kissed you then, sitting in the Impala in front of your dream world house, promising so much more than you ever knew you needed.


End file.
